


Cat Got Your Tongue

by foreverandalwayscrysis



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - The 100 (TV) Fusion, Bellarke, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Pets, bellarke are adorable and have a cat, hi hello this is my first ever work and it's pure fluff because why not, obviously named after a harry potter character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-02 20:42:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16312358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foreverandalwayscrysis/pseuds/foreverandalwayscrysis
Summary: Clarke's upset her cat loves Bellamy more than it loves her.





	Cat Got Your Tongue

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to my salt squad for the encouragement on posting this little draft that I've been hoarding for months (mainly because I'm crying over Bellarke, but who isn't?)

Clarke thinks it’s incredibly rude that her cat showers everyone _but_ Clarke with her affection. None of her friends seem to mind, the traitors, and Bellamy especially is ignorant to Clarke’s indignation.

“I hate you.” Clarke says, watching Minerva curl herself up and around Bellamy’s stretched out form on her couch. He’s scratching behind her ears lazily, nose buried in Clarke’s copy of _A Thousand Splendid Suns_ , eyebrows just slightly furrowed whenever he gets lost in another realm. There’s no response, and Clarke pointedly refuses to acknowledge Minerva’s purrs.

“Bellamy, are you even listening to me?”

Bellamy’s answering hum is noncommittal and Clarke huffs out a breath, setting down her water bottle on the coffee table and sitting up on the loveseat.

“I said, I’ve decided to pursue my mother’s dreams of becoming a cardio-thoracic surgeon and I’m moving to Baltimore on Tuesday to start my training at Johns Hopkins. Oh, and I slept with Miller. The beanie got to me.”

Bellamy merely blinks, looking over at Clarke with the tiniest of frowns, and asks, “Miller’s going to med school?”

“Unbelievable!” Clarke throws her hands up, exasperated, and Bellamy’s confusion continues to grow on his face. “She’s not even your cat and she loves you more than me! Me! The owner, the caretaker, the provider of her specialty treats and non-GMO cat food and expensive, non-clumping, odorless litter!”

As if being able to recognize that Clarke’s shit-talking about her, Minerva opens her eyes to glare sleepily at Clarke, blinks a few times, and goes right back to sleep against Bellamy’s side, who promptly rubs her head.

“Why are you screaming at your cat? She’s asleep.” Bellamy asks, book closed on top of his chest, the founding fathers bookmark Clarke had picked during her grocery run peeking out the side.

“She’s not my cat. I’m disowning her. Forget the fact that I took her in when she was just a stray, wandering around the complex, flea-ridden and lonely. Clearly it was too much of me to offer.” Clarke finishes, snatching her water bottle again and downing the remaining liquid.

Bellamy smiles at her, all amusement and fondness and Clarke’s resident butterflies in her stomach come to life again, warmth dissipating her annoyance at her feline’s preferences. They’ve been officially together for about four months now and Clarke’s breath still hitches in her throat at the pure emotion on Bellamy’s face. “She doesn’t not love you, Clarke. She just shows it differently. Remember that one time she had a blister in her left paw, and kept hissing at everyone until you came home from work, and managed to relax her enough to get it out?” Minerva meows at this, eyes closed, and ears turned towards Clarke.

Clarke blinks at that, having forgotten all about the ordeal that’d gone down over Halloween weekend. She’d been unable to get off early that day, made it through two-thirds of her shift before her phone died, and had walked into a scene of chaos the night before Halloween. Raven was threatening Jasper with bodily harm if he continued to eat the remaining guac while Miller looked on, unbothered from his spot on the couch next to Monty, who was arguing louder than necessary with Harper over the merits of candy corn and their impact on Halloween marketing.

Before Clarke had even managed a coherent thought, Murphy walked out of the bathroom and greeted her with, _“Oh hey. Blake was asking for you, something about your cat being possessed or shit. Did you bring more dip?”_ Clarke stared, unimpressed, and went to search for Bellamy, while Murphy walked back over to the living room, muttering something about bottomless pits.

She’d barely begun her search when she heard Bellamy’s low voice coming from her bedroom and had walked inside to see him crouched by her dresser, his back towards her and an unmistakable hiss ringing through the air.

“Bell? What’s going on?” Clarke asked, stepping into the room.

He’d turned around at that, straightening up to reveal a defensive Minerva, front left paw bent and raised up off the ground, ears flat and body tense.

“Hey. I think something’s stuck in her paw, but she won’t let me come near her, and every time I try, she hisses.” Bellamy looked genuinely worried, eyebrows furrowed, corners of his mouth drawn in a frown, and Clarke couldn’t help but smile softly at the sight.

It had taken Clarke ten minutes, some rapid maneuvering and continuous gentle affections before she managed to pull the splinter out, Minerva none the wiser until Clarke patted her gently and let her down. She’d stayed put, licking her paw and blinked a few times before laying by the door, while Bellamy and Clarke went back to join the group. Minerva had showed up to the party half an hour later, sauntering up to Clarke and nuzzling her leg before settling down by her feet, apologies and thank you all taken care of.

“Whatever. That was one time,” Clarke dismisses, but she knows it’s a losing battle, no heat behind her words. “She still sleeps next to you, greets you first even though I’m always home before you are, and she even brought you a dead mouse. I’ve never gotten a dead mouse!”

Bellamy chuckles at that, carefully unfolding himself from the sofa and sitting up as Minerva gives a quiet meow of disapproval before going silent again. “You know they do that because they think you’re unable to hunt for yourself? So clearly, your cat thinks higher of you than me in terms of hunting prowess.”

Clarke rolls her eyes, walking over to join Bellamy on the sofa and tucking herself into his side, his right arm wrapping around her shoulders and pulling her flush against him. At this point Minerva’s decided to ignore them both, having jumped off onto the floor and walking away to the bedroom, where Clarke knows she’ll find her sound asleep on the windowsill.

“Yeah, well, you’re both lucky that I love you so much.” Clarke says, wrapping her arms around Bellamy’s torso and snuggling closer.

Bellamy beams at that, leaning down and capturing Clarke’s lips with his, all soft and warm and gentle. “Even though Minerva brings me the dead rats and not you?” he teases, smug grin stretching across his face. Clarke gasps in mock offense and swats at his chest, Bellamy laughing and grabbing her hand before she can pull away, placing a kiss on the backs of her fingers.

Clarke smiles, lacing her fingers through Bellamy’s, “Shut up. She only does that because you can’t fend for yourself.”

“Yeah well, I got you for that.”

“Sap.”

“ _Your_ sap.” Bellamy grins.

Clarke’s responding grin is just as wide. “Yeah. My sap.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr at foreverandalwayscrysis, crying over Bellarke daily


End file.
